


The bench

by janetgenea



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, implied nudity and smut but none of the two are really mentioned or depicted, mention of a long mission, mention of sleepless nights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 15:25:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11877387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janetgenea/pseuds/janetgenea
Summary: Bucky and the Reader spend in bed the morning preceding a mission. The Reader and Bucky tell each other the story of a bench very important to them.





	The bench

You scoot closer to Bucky. Every curve and edge of your bodies fitting perfectly together. His metal arm gently wraps around your back, your head resting on his shoulder.

"Better?" He asks still a little short of breath.

"Uh-huh" You nod while your fingers trace absentmindedly his abs.

His velvety lips press a kiss on the top of your head.

"I really do love you, James." You mumble.

A shiny smile spreads on his face. "I know."

You suffocate a laugh against his skin. His warm fingers hoist up your face. Your eyes meet.

"And I love you, [Y/N]."

Your lips catch his in a slow kiss. "I love all of you." You peck his lips once again, and hug him tight with a satisfied sigh.

His arms close around you a little tighter. The two of you lay in silence like this for a while, as Elvis's 'Can't Help Falling in Love' plays on the radio. Basking in each other warmth, and tackled together under the sheets, you witness the morning turning into afternoon as birds soar up in the sky, and the sound of the city drips into the room through the open window.

"Tell me a story, doll." Bucky's husky voice tickles your temple.

You look up at him. Your face smiles back at you from the depths of his blown up pupils. You take some seconds to admire the multiple shades of blue of his irises merging into a thin ring surrounding your image.

"Hmm" Your nose wrinkles as your mind is already working on his request. You prop yourself up on your elbows. "Once upon a time there was a bench by the seaside. Nobody would have ever thought much of that bench. During the years, it had lost its backrest and the salty air had peeled off its varnish in more than one spot. Indeed, people thought so little of that bench that the Mayor had given green light to remove it. What nobody knew was that that very bench was the most important thing in the whole universe. You’ll wonder how this could have been possible, my dearest. The fact is that, during sleepless nights, that very bench was a faithful companion for all those who could quieten their minds only thanks to the ocean waves' sound."

"I think I've already heard this story." Bucky interjects.

"Shh, you asked for a story. So be quiet and let me tell it." You peck his lips, and then resume your story. "As I was saying, this very special bench was a reliable faithful companion so obviously you'll understand that its disappearance came as a shock for those who knew the bench. The first to notice its absence was a young woman that for months has visited the bench, during the late hours of the night, when she couldn't get sleep to fall upon her. She used to sit on the bench while doodling and scribbling on her iPad, until her eyes grew tired and finally sleep began to stir in her mind, at which point she used to say goodbye to the bench and go back home to sleep. When one night she found her friendly bench disappeared, all she could do was staring at the empty spot left behind. She paced back and forth cursing under her breath, highly frustrated to have lost her special place. In this way, hours passed by but sleep didn't visit her that night, so she was still there at the first hours of the morning. What the woman didn't know was that the bench had also another friend that used to visit it, in the early morning, when he couldn't remain in bed any longer after another restless night. And that morning as many before that, he walked down the seashore toward that spot where he had sat so many times to watch the sun raising from the humming waves. But that morning his familiar bench was disappeared, and at its place stood a woman holding in her arms a red tablet and staring at the ground. The man stopped right where he used to sit. The woman eyed the man standing right beside her. 'They have stolen my bench.' She mumbled. The man looked at her and chuckled: 'Who would steal a broken bench?' The woman frowned. 'Little evil gnomes, enemies of the Sandman?' She guessed. The man smiled and added: 'We should report those vicious gnomes to the authorities.' The woman laughed. 'Do you think they would bring it back if we do so?' She inquired. The man shrugged. 'Don't know. But it's worth a try; I was quite fond of that bench.' And so, the two continued to chat about their dearest missing bench until the offices concerned with the urban furniture opened, and they went there to fill in a formal protest against the removal of the bench. The employee at the desk informed the two that nobody else had protested for the absence of the bench, therefore the reinstatement of the bench would have been very improbable. But, apparently, it wasn't so; or maybe the names of the sleep deprived couple were frightening enough to convince the Mayor to put back the bench. Fact is that, when the following night the woman went once again to the seaside, her faithful companion was once again there. She sat on the bench scribbling and doodling as usual, but that night she stayed longer than usual in the hope to meet again the man and have, then, the opportunity to rejoice with him for the return of the bench. And when, indeed, he arrived, they cheerfully sat together on their beloved bench. The End."

"The end?" Bucky chides. "Hmm, that I knew that isn't exactly the end."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. If I remember well, the following nights the man kept going back to the bench a little earlier and the woman kept staying a little longer so that they could see each other. Until, one night, finally the man found the courage to ask the beautiful woman out for a date. To which she frowned: 'And me believing that these were already dates. Didn't know you were so old fashioned to actually want to go for a formal date, or anywhere else than on a bench.' The man laughed and answered: 'Doll, I'm born in 1917. I'm antique not simply old fashioned.' And so the woman smiled to him: 'That sounds like a really interesting story, it definitely earns you a formal date.' Since then the bench has seen the couple far less during the night and much more during the day, quite often together and with a pick-nick basket. This is the end." Bucky hums satisfied.

"Yeah, you are right." You press a tiny kiss on his cheek, before shuffling out of bed.

"No, come back.” Bucky whines doing grabby hands towards you. “Where are you going?"

You take a sharpie from your desk and plop yourself back on the bed.

"Just needed this." You giggle as Bucky traps you in his arms and peppers the back of your neck with kisses.

"What do you need a sharpie for?" He mumbles nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

"Just to remind to the man why in four weeks, at this time, I'll be waiting for him at the bench." The point of the sharpie runs over the plates of Bucky's inner forearm. "I'll bring the food; he just has to make it there in one piece." You turn to kiss him.

Bucky unlocks his arms from around you to read what you have written on his arm.

_I love you_

_For all that you are_

_All that you have been_

_And all you're yet to be_

Bucky's eyes gloss over with tears as they move between the gentle curves of your handwriting.

"I. Love. You." You whisper cupping his face in your hands.

Bucky pulls you closer. Your eyes close, and his lips crash on yours. His hands slide up your sides leaving goosebumps on your skin. Your fingers entangle between his soft locks. His tongue ghosts over your lower lip; your lips part at his request. His arms wrap around your waist. Your head spins and you can feel butterflies in your stomach, as the first time you have kissed him. The burning need for air breaks the kiss.

"I love you so freaking much." Bucky smiles and pecks you. "Don't worry, I'll be there. I won't miss one of our bench's dates for anything in the world."

"Good." You kiss him once more. "Now, you’d better get dressed before Steve passes by and decides to take you on mission like this in honor of some Howlies' charade."

Bucky's laugh reverberates in his chest as he tackles you down against the mattress.

"We still have time, doll."


End file.
